


The Thyncing Machine

by wellmet



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6598471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellmet/pseuds/wellmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on post-SPECTRE. Bond took up with Dr Swann too soon after Vesper (well I think so anyway).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thyncing Machine

**Author's Note:**

> MY take on SPECTRE aftermath. The title is taken from a machine currently in development in Silicon Valley that I hadn't heard of when I wrote this. Science keeps catching up with SF. How I explain how Bond acted.

THYNCING MACHINE  
Meretseger 

Madeleine watched as James pointed his pistol at his nemesis, and then pressed the button on the Personal Thyncing Device in her pocket and waited. It took no more than ten seconds and James relaxed, the change in his stance visible from where she stood. As she watched her lover lowered his gun and stepped back, turning to look at her where she waited for him. 

Without a backward glance at his colleagues from MI6 James Bond threw down his pistol and walked towards her. Madeleine felt a surge of happiness, the PTD worked even under such extreme conditions as these. Bond had a very strong personality but the device was able to find the weaknesses in his psyche and turn them to her advantage. She took the arm James offered her and they walked calmly and silently to the hotel.

Later, sated and sleepy Madeleine looked up at the ceiling of their room and thought about what she wanted to do next. One more proof that the PTD worked, she thought, and then she could start using it for the purpose for which it had been designed. She'd have to turn it off then and James would return to the man he was and he would leave her. For a moment she was tempted to keep James under it's influence, he would be happy with her, he would not remember his life with MI6, a life that she knew was tearing apart the man and what he could be but she knew that to do so would be wrong; Bond had made his decision to be a spy and it would be unethical to pre-empt his decision - even for the man's own health and sanity. She smiled as she decided what the last test would be. She had always liked fast cars and it would be the ultimate test....

That Bond was willing to use Q's affection for him, to risk the man's career at MI6 for a whim of his lover's, was the final proof that he was not the man he really was. Madeleine had, once she worked out that he worked for the British Secret Service, been careful what questions she asked him but she had found out enough about his personal life to know that the Quartermaster was the closest thing to a friend that he had and that, subconsciously perhaps - and perhaps not, she didn't pry enough to be sure - he knew the younger man was a little in love and a lot in lust with him. Asking for and being given the Aston Martin was the final test and Bond and the PTD had passed it with flying colours.

"Where to?" Bond asked, revving the powerful engine, his whole body ready for the challenge of driving.

"Paris?" Madeleine suggested. It was far enough for a long quick drive and close enough that the spy would be back home within four or five days. He would be needed to help sort out the mess left behind by the man Bond called C. She wasn't a British subject but she was a loyal Swiss citizen and she knew Bond would want to help his country recover from the crisis. It was a fight he had dedicated his life to and she had no desire to keep him from his duty, even if she knew she would cry when he left her. 

They lay in the big comfortable bed, sheets tucked up around them as their bodies cooled and Madeleine knew that her time with James was over. Their love making had been passionate but now James was staring up at the ceiling, distant again, as he had been when they first met.  
Madeleine took a deep breath and decided to make it easy on James, after all it was due to her that he was in this situation in the first place. She rolled over, putting a hand on a broad, solid shoulder and said, "it's not working is it?" 

Not turning to look at his lover Bond shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really thought ..."

"It was just the situation, I think," Madeleine offered. Bond knew as well as she did that shared danger could lead to emotions that had no real foundations once the situation was calmer. "Go back to your MI6, do what you trained to do and remember me with a smile."

Bond sighed with relief. Madeleine was being good to him, letting him go so easily. He got out of bed, comfortably naked, and then leant down to kiss her one last time, gently and with thanks. "With a smile," he agreed. When he returned from the bathroom, dressed and ready to leave she had put on a soft, purple silk dressing gown that slid and clung to her skin and packed for him. A wave, a smile and he left, his pulse already quickening at the thought of driving back to England.

Left alone Dr Swanne turned to her laptop and started making notes on thePTD. Now she could start to use it for its intended purpose. Where drugs and cognitive training had failed her device would cure brains twisted by disease and injury. She had treated many people with schizophrenia in the past and for some drugs worked well enough but even if they worked they had unpleasant side effects, her device had none. She would also try it on depressives and people with autism; it would need some adjustments for each individual patient but she was confident it would work. She felt a surge of pride and happiness; she would be able to help her patients and the knowledge she acquired would be passed on to others and soon those cursed with diseased minds would be cured and able to live normal, happy and productive lives. She wondered if she would get a Nobel Prize for her work and shrugged off the idea. She was a doctor and she cured the sick and no prize or money could give her half the satisfaction of seeing the sick walk with bright eyes and confident steps into a new life. 

When the goods lift stopped and 007 stepped out, dressed in his usual grey, and smirking at his surprise, Q was even more surprised to see that the Aston Martin had suffered no more than a light coating of dust. Of course, 007 being 007, it hadn't been cleaned and polished - Q often thought that Bond deliberately damaged his tech just because he wanted to. The man wouldn't deliberately damage the car he loved but he was capable of not washing it to prove a point. Luckily M had been so busy sorting out the mess left by C that he hadn't had time to come down to Q Branch and find out about the missing car. Q had been dreading the questions and was worrying about his mortgage and how he could feed his cats if he was unemployed.

"Good morning, 007," Q said, turning back to his computer. "We weren't expecting you back."

"I will always come back," Bond said, moving to stand close to his favourite boffin. He leaned a little closer. "To you." 

This is my first Bond fan fic but I had to, like so many others, sort out the end of SPECTRE.  
I have just read an article in this week's New Scientist about a device similar to this one being developed in Silicon Valley. Once again science has caught up with SF.


End file.
